100 Avengers Drabbles
by jess is a shark
Summary: A hundred prompts, a hundred drabbles - all characters will have their chance to shine. Each drabble will focus on something new and different in the Avengers universe. Prompt 5: Seeking Solace - "I just… I wanted to talk about Agent Coulson. Uh, Phil. I didn't really get to know him for very long. Certainly nowhere near as long as you knew him. But I've been thinking about him..."
1. Introduction

**So basically I've kinda sorta fallen in love with all these characters and I've ALWAYS wanted to do a 100 drabbles challenge and I'm extremely, extremely excited to start this one c: If you don't know how this works, there's a pre-set list of a hundred prompts (that I didn't write lolol) I'll be using and each chapter will be a drabble based off the chapter's respective prompt. I'll be focusing on all sorts of characters and relationships and what have you so please leave a review, let me know what you think and what you want to see [: I don't want to ramble on forever so here you are!**

_prompt one: introduction  
word count: 981_

It didn't take long for the initial shock and high from the battle to wear off and for the massive elephant that was Clint Barton's reappearance to march into the room. It was strange, Clint suddenly being part of the team when mere hours before he'd been aiming his deadly arrows at their heads. Everyone carefully avoided the subject, during the shawarma meal, during the cleanup, for days afterward even – until that last meeting before Thor and Loki returned to Asgard. Loki was secured under SHIELD's watchful eye (Fury had barely gotten any sleep keeping his one eye constantly trained on the damn demigod), and the Avengers decided they probably shouldn't part ways yet, or at the very least should try and gain some closure or _something._ It was Steve's idea, naturally. After all they'd gone through, they couldn't just move on like nothing had happened, right?

And so they gathered on that poor level of Tony's tower that had sustained the bulk of the damage, and for a while they sat and made unimportant small talk or sipped at their drinks awkwardly. Not even Tony had much to say. Finally, though, the silence was broken by Thor, who pointed at a few large craters in the floor and asked, "Did the Chitauri send meteors, as well?"

It seemed as if Bruce didn't know whether to look amused or embarrassed, so his face twisted into a strange combination of both expressions and flushed red as he replied, "Your brother, um…he kinda pissed the Other Guy off."

Thor laughed; a deep, throaty and booming laugh that came from the bottom of chest and echoed around the room, open to the evening air though it was. He downed the remainder of his champagne in less than a second and requested more. Tony stated (unconvincingly) that they'd unfortunately just run out. The group could feel themselves settling into the awkward almost-silence again, when suddenly a rather unfamiliar voice spoke up.

"Major kudos, Banner," said Clint with a small, good-natured smile. He raised his glass in Bruce's direction as a sort of casual toast. "No offense, Thor, I just don't happen to be a huge fan of Loki…at least, at the moment."

"I am not offended, good hawkman. My brother is good at heart, but he is naïve and makes many mistakes. I do not deny this!" Tony made a childish face at the unreasonable volume of Thor's voice. He wasn't sure how one was able to even get buzzed from a single glass of champagne, but he knew he sure as hell wasn't letting the guy have any more.

"Thanks, I suppose." Bruce looked a little uncomfortable at the notion of accepting praise for something the Hulk had done, but he smiled politely. "I guess we haven't really had a formal introduction, Agent Barton."

"Call me Clint. Chances are I was probably mind-controlled into almost killing you recently, so I think the least I can do is offer my friendship." Clint swirled his drink around in its glass and silently prayed he hadn't just said something extremely stupid.

Luckily, Bruce didn't seem to be phased in the least. The smile that adorned his face now was more genuine. "Alright, Clint, friends it is. Chances are I'll probably almost kill you sometime in the future, so maybe friendship will alleviate that sort of tension a bit."

They all realized what Bruce had just said – they'd all pretty much assumed it, but for it to be said aloud, even indirectly, was an entirely different ballgame. But he'd done it – confirmed the Avengers were there to stay. _"Sometime in the future." _Sometime in the future, this would happen again. Sometime in the future, the world would once more need to be protected – to be avenged.

Tony set his glass down on his pristine marble counter top and clapped his hands together abruptly, startling the entire room. "Whoa now, don't pull out your guns and bows and hammers, as far as I know I'm not planning on almost killing anyone here."

Pepper, who had been watching quietly and thoughtfully from a chair in the corner of the room, pitched in, "He's an attention seeker. He likes to be noticed."

"We're aware," Steve said with a playfully resentful roll of his eyes. (He still didn't like Tony in the least, hell no! But they might as well just _try_ and get along…right?)

"_As I was saying_," Tony continued, shooting an overly exaggerated glare at both Steve and Pepper, "if we're going to get all buddy-buddy cozy and such, then you should all know that I'm Tony. Tony Stark. Of course, I hope you knew that before just now. You should also already know that I'm a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist – I know Captain Carebear's heard that one – and I don't like to be handed things." He paused for a moment to take a breath and then raised his finger as if he'd forgotten something extremely important: "_Also _the insurance for this beauty of a building—" (Steve scoffed under his breath here) "—is expensive as hell and I honestly don't know if it covers alien attacks, so since you all helped with this destruction you should probably pitch in to cover damages."

"Don't be ridiculous, Tony," Pepper chided, just as Bruce and Clint joined each other in a fit of good, real laughter at the general outrageousness of the entire situation. Soon, even hard-eyed Natasha was gasping for air. No matter what they tried, they were just seven fully grown adult freaks of nature who could _not_ stop laughing.

They all slept over that night, and the next day Tony begrudgingly agreed to let them move in permanently; excepting Thor who was content with simply being reassured that he had a place for him and Jane to stay whenever he visited from Asgard. The ice had officially been broken.


	2. Love

**This one's a little long for a drabble, ahaha ._. I can't help it! There's just always so much to say! Then again it's not much longer than the last one. Lol anyways, can you tell I'm pumped? Second update in a day x) Let me know what you think!**

_prompt two: love_

_word count: 1,158_

It was such an abstract concept.

Bruce lay in his bed and stared at the flecked ceiling, sheets having been tossed every which way in frustration at his inability to fall asleep. It was another one of _those_ nights, when the Hulk's presence was too strong for him to ignore it. If he tried, he was too afraid he'd lose control. So he stopped trying to fix the situation and just accepted it. Bruce Banner wasn't going to be getting much rest, so instead, he was contemplating the realities of love.

It was completely different for every individual person. Having lived with his fellow Avengers for even just a few weeks, he essentially had a window straight into their psyches – even the world class assassins had their vulnerable moments, and it didn't take much for Bruce to figure out what love was to his friends.

He wasn't even sure if Thor understood what love was – did they have that sort of thing on Asgard? It seemed as if the demigod loved regardless. Thor saw the good in everything. Even Loki, who'd made it quite clear he had no interest in any sort of loving family relationship. It was almost a little heartbreaking to Bruce, because the world was designed to prey on the innocent, the hopeful – Thor was in no way weak, but he was so…_happy. _He had so much to lose, and he didn't even seem to be aware that there was such a possibility. Perhaps Bruce was just too much of a pessimistic person (he liked to think of himself as a realist), but for some reason thinking of such a person – one who loves so very unconditionally – made him extremely sad, so he directed his thoughts elsewhere.

Steve was similar to Thor, but he was much more level-headed. To Steve, love was worth anything and everything. He'd give up his life for the love of his country, or for that matter the love of his life – and he didn't view it as any great sacrifice, to him it was simply the right thing to do. As if he believed that the basic unit of life was love instead of cells. The world was made from love and ran on love, and Steve would do anything to preserve that love.

Some, say Natasha, would view this as a weakness. And in a way, it would be, because it's a surefire way to get yourself manipulated by the bad guy. However, the way Natasha lived – in denial of love – was another very disheartening thing to think about. It was no secret she and Clint had a…thing? That didn't seem like the appropriate word to Bruce, because it was much deeper than that. He couldn't even comprehend the closeness of their relationship. It brought _best friends_ to an entirely new level. Clint and Natasha were made for each other, and he knew that they knew it – but as far as he could tell, neither of them had ever acknowledged it. At least, not directly. Bruce knew Natasha was really the one holding things back. She didn't view herself as a person who deserved love, or maybe it was just that she didn't understand it. It wasn't one of her living, breathing targets – she had no control, she couldn't predict what was going to happen next. And he was sure that sort of thing must be terrifying to her. Clint was a very put-together, composed person, so exercising almost inhuman patience he respected the boundaries of Natasha's comfort zone without complaint. Bruce hoped they'd be able to be happy together someday.

Tony was clearly still too immature at heart to recognize love. Bruce didn't know the extent of his and Pepper's relationship, but if it hadn't reached such deep romantic proportions yet, he had a hunch that when it did Tony might wisen up a little. The man was brilliant, no doubt about it, but he certainly had a mile left of growing to do. It definitely helped that Pepper's patience matched even Clint's – Bruce easily found common ground with Tony, but that didn't change the fact that he knew a hell of a lot of ways to push somebody's buttons. He figured, also, that Tony was the sort of person who just didn't know how to express his feelings properly, like the little boy in elementary school who would tug on the ponytail of the girl he liked. Bruce was a little more tolerant of him than the others, and not just because they had so much in common – he understood that deep down, Tony's sarcastic jabs and condescending remarks were just his way of saying he cared.

And then all there was left was him. He knew his plight well. He liked to claim that he'd reached a place of acceptance, but somewhere in his heart he knew that it was only because the reality of it just hadn't hit him yet. He was still secretly hoping to one day have that perfect, normal family life – a wife, kids, pets, eventually grandchildren… For Bruce to love someone would be a selfish, selfish thing for him to do. The others tried to tell him he didn't deserve such a lonely existence, but he could never bring himself to put somebody in constant danger like that. It was hard _enough_ being around his friends all the time. It put him more on edge than he usually was, the thought that at any moment he could lose it and do something horrid. The truth was Bruce was afraid to love. Love was so fragile, so _delicate – _and he didn't do particularly well with breakable things. Of course it wasn't the way he wanted it to be, but he told himself that at least he'd always have the Other Guy. If what Tony had said about the Hulk saving Bruce's life was true, then in a way, he felt a little comforted. Maybe over time he'd learn to control it better, and the Other Guy would become a companion of sorts. He didn't think he'd ever be able to be proud of what he was, he'd already done too much damage; but maybe it would get a little easier someday. Realist though he was, Bruce knew that it was foolish for one to think that hope was unnecessary. No matter how hopeless the world may seem, the human race wouldn't survive if they didn't have something to hold onto. They would lose themselves – and Bruce couldn't afford to do that anymore than he already had.

The thoughts weighed down on Bruce's eyelids. He struggled to hold onto consciousness, then reluctantly decided to let go when he realized he felt the Other Guy backing off. Perhaps he'd heard some of Bruce's silent tangent. Then he was falling, falling, falling, and the smiling faces of his friends passed by him as a dark wave crashed over his head and submerged him in sleep.


	3. Light

**So as you can clearly see this one's more of the usual drabble length x) It'll be off and on, sometimes what the prompt inspires requires a longer piece and sometimes it needs to be short and sweet. Thank you so much for the reviews guys, I really appreciate it! c:**

_prompt three: light  
word count: 108_

When Tony needed to calm down, for whatever reason, he found a mirror and stared not at himself but at the arc reactor. The soft blue light it emitted was radiant, but not painfully so – it was soothing, and Tony didn't think (or at least admit) that about many things. But when he watched the arc reactor – I mean, _really _watched it – and his breathing fell into rhythm with the gentle pulsing of the blue glow, something in his world just seemed to fall right into place. He remembered why he was there, what he was fighting for, and all the things that he had yet to avenge.


	4. Dark

**Ahhhh Clint and Natasha….OTP, I swear. I never read the comics at all, but after the movie I'm seriously hooked, and I read all their backstory and everything. Anyways, another typical-length drabble for all of you. I hope you liiike iiit~**

_prompt four: dark_

_word count: 209_

It was the sixth night since the battle that Natasha hadn't slept a wink. She couldn't help it. Ever since Clint was back, she could tell he still wasn't feeling quite like his old self. It worried her and she hated that. As much as she tried to convince herself that she should stop caring so much about her partner and just focus on herself, it was getting harder and harder to deny the fact that she really did have feelings for him – whether they were platonic or romantic, she didn't know, and she didn't care to find out. _I owe him a debt, _she thought assuredly, _I'm just repaying the debt. That's all._

But she knew that Clint was completely aware of her presence in his new room in Stark Tower. Every night she was there, watching him – watching _over_ him. Curled up in the shadows, not thinking, not speaking, not moving a single microscopic muscle… she was just there. Sort of like a sinister version of a guardian angel. She knew that _he_ knew she was there, but he said nothing and did nothing, and she was thankful. For often when Natasha was in the dark of the night, it was much easier for her to pretend.


	5. Seeking Solace

**Little bit o' Steve and Clint interaction in this one – at first when I saw the prompt, I was a little stumped, but after a few minutes of thinking it just came to me: PHIL. D': Here you are! And thanks so much again for the reviews (:  
**

_prompt five: seeking solace_

_word count: 831_

Clint had heard Cap's hesitant footsteps approaching him from behind. He had expected a nonchalant clearing of the super soldier's throat, or perhaps a light tap on the shoulder – not for a cascade of bloodied trading cards raining from the heavens.

"Hello to you too, Rogers," Clint said calmly, gathering the cards and handing them over his shoulder without a single backwards glance.

Steve sidled up next to him and sat, sighing softly as he settled into a comfortable position. "Barton, I—"

"We pretty much saved the world together. Let's do first names, 'kay bud?"

Steve sniffed uncertainly. "You called me by my last name, I guess I just thought—"

Clint chuckled dryly. "I was just giving you a hard time. Now stop saying ridiculous things so I don't have to interrupt you anymore. I don't like feeling like Stark, I want to hear what you have to say." Clint turned to look at Steve with an expression of such genuine interest that Steve almost began to wonder whether or not he should trust the assassin at all. But if what he'd observed of Clint since the man had been released from Loki's spell was accurate, he was a good person – the kind of person Steve could talk to easily.

Steve nodded and ran a hand through his hair, frowning at his shoes. "I just… I wanted to talk about Agent Coulson. Uh, Phil."

Something unrecognizable flashed in Clint's blue-gray eyes. Steve wasn't sure if the assassin had actually stiffened or if it was just his imagination. Clint didn't reply for what felt like a very long time, and the air crackled with tension – when finally the archer spoke, his tone dark with emotion. "What about Phil?"

"I didn't really get to know him for very long. Certainly nowhere near as long as you knew him. But I've been thinking about him, and I don't know, you just seemed like the guy to go to about it—"

"I don't really want to talk about Phil, Steve." Clint maintained eye contact flawlessly, and Steve suppressed a shudder. The archer's stare was _intense_. Clint cracked a small, humorless smile. "Didn't I say I didn't want to interrupt you anymore?"

Steve didn't know how to respond. He sat there sheepishly and tried not to break the silence by breathing too loudly.

Clint shook his head slowly. "You didn't offend me, Cap. It's just hard, you know? I blame myself," he explained, raising a hand as Steve opened his mouth to interject, "for all of it. And don't try to talk me out of that. You won't be the first one, and you wouldn't be the last. But it's not going to help."

"Natasha?" Steve questioned, wondering why he bothered to ask the question when he already knew what the answer would be.

"And Fury. And Bruce. _And_ Pepper. Hell, Tony even tried to cheer me up – tried, mind you," he added with a hint of amusement.

"Well, ever thought that maybe they're onto something?" Steve raised an eyebrow, and Clint scoffed.

"I'm touched by everyone's concern, really I am, but I'm kind of a wallower. I like to wallow. Right now, I'm wallowing in a large pool of guilt. More like a lake, really. Maybe someday I'll stop the wallowing and start to wade towards the shallow end – but for now, I'm going to wallow on." He inhaled deeply. "It's how I cope."

"If you don't mind me asking, how on earth is that any sort of an effective coping mechanism?"

Clint laughed at this. "So much of my job involves turning my feelings off, pushing my emotions aside – I like to remind myself that I've still got them. That I'm still human, you know."

Steve watched the archer for a moment, thinking. Then, "You know how Natasha says that thing, about the red in her ledger?"

Clint cocked his head, signaling for Cap to go on.

"She's wiping that away, gradually. And you can, too."

"A nice sentiment," Clint said quietly, "but that's thing – can we really do that? Does it really cancel out? Can we ever truly make up for the pain and tragedy we've caused? Or are we only fooling ourselves?"

In that moment, Steve realized many things – how broken Clint and Natasha truly were, why they felt such a need to avenge, and why they were so perfect for each other… he put a strong hand on Clint's shoulder and smiled warmly. "Doesn't hurt to try."

Unexpectedly, Clint said, "You were Phil's hero."

Steve averted his eyes, suddenly feeling a bit weepy. "I know." He fought to keep his voice from breaking.

"Sometimes I even thought I felt a little jealous." When Steve saw Clint grinning, he couldn't help but do the same. "_Thought_ I felt it. Never said I really did. Don't let that genetically modified vintage head of yours get any bigger, you don't want to be the next Stark, Captain."

"Thanks, Barton."

"Anytime, Rogers."


End file.
